Friday, September 30, 2011

Thank you so very much for all the lovely birthday wishes! I had such a wonderful day with my husband who surprised me with a cake, a beautiful card, and a dozen red roses.

You will not believe AGAIN I have gotten a year younger. All year I have thought I was turning 54, and wouldn't you know ..... I am 53 today. I tell you there are some advantages to being clueless! Just look at the expression on Peanut Vendor Vernon's face. He looks a little wary about this craft room's mistress.

It truly is a three-ring circus here at Creative Breathing as I work to finish last minute crafts I am excited to show my sisters-in-law. They have never seen my craft room before.

It is late at night here in the Heart of Ohio as I make mental lists of all that I need to do in preparation of our wedding picnic on Saturday. It is such a funny thing to live with a man who is a flight attendant and is used to ordering scads of food. He will throw into our cart what I call "Airplane Food" such as shrimp cocktail and red curly lettuce for lining our food trays. "Hon! We're having hamburgers!" I say to him.

Don't even get me started on the breakfast he has planed for Sunday morning. "We don't need fruit trays! A few bananas will do!" Can you just hear us in the grocery store?

When Joe's Mom called me this evening to ask what I am bringing to the picnic, I replied, "Baked Beans". I was too embarrassed to mention all that my husband will be bringing.

Again, thank you for letting this Creative Breather pick herself up again and again.

Monday, September 19, 2011

All was going well with the Big White Puppy and her Partner in Crime. The maze of baby gates that had become my home to protect my new carpet while a little confusing as to whose freedom was being restricted, was working out rather splendidly. Our sliding glass door left open, curtains hanging over the opening, their own dogie door to the great beyond otherwise known as "My Husband's Yard". And then came Day eight...

A chilly September day, the sky as blue as can be, leaves just beginning to turn on all the ...... "Hon, there are trees missing from our yard!" Where there once were five, there are now only three. How is it possible for dog to eat a tree? There are no signs of branches or roots or a single colored leaf. Gone, I tell you, gone. But this was only the beginning ....

I should have known better than to leave the puppies unattended in the yard over long. A call to come brought the white puppy encased in mud from head to toe, her cohort trailing close behind ever so clean. It seem Elan the German Shepard, aka "The Nose", had scouted out a scent underneath our shed. There was a hole the size of Nahala the Samoyed, aka "The Digger"! I tell you I nearly had a nervous breakdown! Just try bathing a white dog whose hair will not get wet!

When TSG called to tell her father she and Joe were on their way to pick up the pups, he responded they would be waiting curbside with all their belongings. It has taken me an entire day to Spic and Span my home. I'm a little wistful about my ten puppy sitting days... Well at least the first Eight!

Friday, September 16, 2011

Of all the craft room characters I make, my "little" pom pom birds are my very favorite. This fall feathered friend tells the story of my very first home as a new bride in Lake Ann, Michigan, whose claim to fame was a tornado touching down in the center of town, and a sighting of Big Foot.

Being a city girl from Washington, DC where such things didn't happen, I always kept one eye on the sky and one eye on the woods that passed by my car window while driving through town. Lake Ann consisted of a bait store where you could also purchase a tank of gas, and a post office where a key was needed to open a little door with a glass window giving glimpse of your mail within.

Our 700 sq ft cottage was nestled within a thick forest of trees on the far side of Lake Ann, the river feeding the lake winding it's way through my yard. We hadn't any neighbors as surrounding cottages were only occupied in the summer months. It was a quiet and restful place, perfectly perfect for someone like me.

On the weekends my husband and I loved to walk through the woods that enclosed us in a quiet darkness that was all our own. The sound of leaves rustling when scuffled through a favorite sound to this day.

Each morning my husband and I would drive together into the city to our places of work. I loved this time together as the car heater slowly warmed our bodies our talk reflective on how grateful we were to live in such a place.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

When I am standing in line in the lobby of my bank, I know I will have to address once again the issue of on-line banking with the teller that is assisting me. "Mrs. Andrus, do you know how easy it is to pay your bills on line?"

"I do." I reply, "But my husband's hobby is paying bills, and he simply won't be deprived of the enjoyment he gets by doing this by mail."

I love this little quirk of my husband's. He sits at his desk tucked in a corner of our bedroom with a front window over his shoulder. The sound of perforated paper being torn reaches my ears as I sit in my craft room. I know that he is as happy as can be, and I am happy for him.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

The enthusiasm of my own Newlywed Days matched the excitement in my heart of having my very first job as a receptionist in the Trust Department of the Traverse City State Bank. Honeymoon Wardrobe carefully selected each day to make the best impression. Appreciative glances from the customers I would usher into the offices of the department's lawyers.

Lunch hour of my own, I loved to window shop along Front Street, the turquoise waters of Traverse Bay glimpsed between buildings, paycheck hoped fors changing with each new something that caught my eye. A sidewalk bench overlooking the view became the place to eat my sack lunch and admire other passersby.

This was how I came to know Oscar. A simple open face that had never known a frown, a gentle soul who found joy in making others smile. Bib overalls his daily uniform, a cap with ear flaps folded up on sunny days, a grocery sack rolled down many times always carried in his hands. With each person Oscar would greet, he would unroll his sack and offer a piece of candy. Wishes for a wonderful day, Oscar would be on his way.

Reception Desk typing, phone answering, client ushering, busy to near distraction, there was Oscar sitting in my waiting area his rolled sack on the floor by his feet. Oscar greeted me with his now familiar smile and said, "I have an appointment."

For all the days I would work at Traverse City State Bank, I too would become one of the many individuals who looked out for the welfare of Oscar. Siblings eager to leave their humble farm origins and the care of Oscar to their aging parents now wanted Oscar committed to the city's mental institution thereby giving them control of all that had been left to Oscar. It seems the mineral rights of the vast acreage of the farm had made Oscar a very wealthy man. For all of Oscar's days, his every need would be provided for, his rolled down sack never empty of candy.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

My husband is someone who never seems to buy anything new. I think he is morally opposed to it. I have deduced this over the years by the scowl that always seems to greet me on return trips that have caused my wallet to lighten.

To avoid this tension filled moment I try to avoid it all together. In fact, I try to avoid him! Poorbaby Paydays always coincide on the one day of the week I know he will be away at work. The window of opportunity carefully constructed to PERUSE, PURCHASE, and PUT AWAY, before he next lays eyes on me! The Jersey Shore housemates have nothing on me with their GYM, TAN, WASH routine.

But on this Poorbaby Payday I have been SUBMARINED! With only moments to spare before my husband's return from work, I pull into my neighborhood court and pull into he garage. With one foot on the stairs to my craft room, who should I see driving into the court as well? Time stands still! I have been caught!

Rationale for my actions? Oh I have a defensive list ready.... "But I never go anywhere!", "I color my own hair, what else do I have to spend my money on?" "These are supplies!" and the very best, "I only spent a few dollars!"

The Dance of Buyers Remorse is very short lived as my husband knows the things I say to him are true. He will say to me he is at his most happy when he knows I am happy.